Gone and Done It
by kennagirl
Summary: He just kinda accepts it as fact, loving Kurt, with no fanfare. However, getting Kurt will be a little harder than that.


**_A/N: Originally written for the 2011 Big Bang Mix-Up, based on a mix provided by supergreak._**

* * *

"Hello, Hudmel clan!" Puck called as he let himself in the front door. He had long been used to doing that back when it was just Finn and Mrs. H, mostly because of Finn's inability to remember to lock the front door. Finn was good at remembering most everything else, but it was like Puck remembering to put the lid back on the toothpaste: he could think about doing it at any other time except when he actually needed to. Since he and Finn had fixed their broken friendship over the championship game, he'd transferred his make-yourself-at-home attitude to the new house, with the addition of signaling his presence. Neither he nor Mr. H was looking forward to the potential of another meeting where one party had no pants on, so Puck heeded his request.

He followed the sound of a gunshot and lots of yelling to the living room, expecting to find Finn vegged out in front of a Law & Order rerun, but instead found Kurt curled up on the couch. "Hey, man," he commented, looking around and seeing that he was the only one watching TV. "Finn around?"

Kurt rolled his eyes slightly before returning them to the screen. "He's upstairs passed out between bouts of begging for chicken soup and claiming he's dying. I think half the meds Carole is giving him are just to shut him up."

Puck winced. "Right, the mono. If he's half as bad with this as he was that time we both got the flu, I feel really bad for you. Mom and Mrs. H let me stay here so my sis wouldn't get it and I considered smothering him with his pillow by the end of the first day."

"I've considered it a few times already. But it's date night for Dad and Carole, so I promised I'd keep half an eye on him so they could actually enjoy Valentine's weekend." His face soured and he burrowed a bit deeper into the couch. "That way someone in this house gets something from this ridiculous holiday."

"Plans go bad?" Puck asked, not really expecting an answer as he dropped his backpack full of games on the floor and plopped down onto the couch. "Is that why you're watching…" He finally paid a few moments of attention to the screen and recognized the movie instantly. "Boondock Saints? Really?"

"Yeah," Kurt admitted. "Got fed up with romance being shoved down my throat, so I decided to turn to some blood and action for the night. Plus Sean Patrick Flanery is pretty hot." He cut off abruptly, obviously remembering who he was sitting next to on the couch.

Puck was unfazed. "Yeah, he's nice and all, but I prefer Norman Reedus. He's got a good body, plus there's just something about his eyes." He half-expected Kurt to fight him on the point, and was admittedly surprised by the silence next to him. When he glanced over, he saw Kurt staring at him, utterly stunned. "What?"

"I'm just— When— You—"

"Kurt Hummel is speechless. I feel pretty accomplished right now."

The epic face of bitchiness turned on him. "I was just wondering how long you've been, what? Gay? Bi?"

He just shrugged. He had come to terms with being what he called "equal opportunity" a while back, sometime after joining glee. It was just that most of the opportunities he'd gotten had been female so far. He said as much to Kurt, who continued staring at him like he was seeing him in a whole new light. "Dude, they're going to the strip club soon. Do you really want to miss that awesome shoot out?"

Kurt returned his attention to the screen, obviously still trying to process the information, but enjoying the movie all the same. Puck did the same, but occasionally found himself sneaking glances over to Kurt on the other half of the couch. While his realization about guys in general came during sophomore year, his realization about Kurt specifically didn't come until he was gone, run off by some asshole who couldn't manage to stay expelled. It kinda surprised him how much he missed seeing Kurt almost every day; even his more annoying tendencies felt strangely absent from the choir room. At first, he thought it was just because it was different, but he was still feeling the loss long after everyone else had obviously adjusted to his absence.

Singing to Lauren had been an attempt to get his head on straight, so to speak. Instead he just ended up feeling like shit. Not just because of what it did to her, and he was really sorry about that, but he kinda felt like he was cheating on Kurt somehow, and not just because Lauren joined to replace him. He'd felt a twinge of that same thing when he was making out with Rachel last time. So after Glee, he walked over to an empty lot near the school to think.

Finding out he was halfway to in love with Kurt Hummel hadn't been on his to-do list for the week, but Puck had never cared much for to-do lists anyway.

The movie went on, and Puck caught himself mouthing along with the prayer as the Saints administered their own version of last rights. A bit self-conscious about it with Kurt sitting right there, he glanced over, surprised to see him doing the same thing. He smirked at the screen. Leave it to a badass movie like this to provide the one Christian prayer that a Jew and an atheist could say together.

He kinda liked this, sitting on the couch and chilling with Kurt at the end of the long day. He could definitely get used to doing this more often. Like, every day kind of more often. That thought turned over and over in his head, through most of the rest of the movie. He liked Kurt, really liked him. He wanted to spend time like this with him. He also wanted to spend time with him with hands touching skin and mouths panting and a few less articles of clothing. He didn't know if he'd actually go for someone like Puck, someone so opposite, not to mention the less than stellar past they had together. But it was worth a try. Despite all the crap he'd have to put up with from anyone that didn't like it, it was worth at least a try.

The courtroom doors on the screen burst open and his attention was drawn back to the movie fully for the big finale. It was his favorite scene, and he knew the coming speech by heart. However, it struck a little more true this time around. He may not have been the best guy in the past, but at least he was a lesser form of filth. Hopefully that counted for something.

The final shots fired and segued into the interview scenes, credits scrolling over them. He could feel Kurt's eyes on him and figured that was some kind of cue that he was supposed to say something, probably an excuse to leave.

"Dude, so is it just me, or does that one woman at the meatpacking plant at the beginning look a lot like Coach Beiste?"

* * *

Puck wasn't expecting to see Kurt in the otherwise empty choir room a couple weeks later on Friday after school, but there he sat in his regular spot, tapping away at his phone without a care in the world. For a moment, Puck thought wildly that maybe he'd transferred back when no one was paying attention, but then he noticed the blazer draped over the back of the chair. He was still wearing the tie and pants, but the jacket seemed to have offended him somehow and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. Puck couldn't help but notice that Kurt actually had really nice forearms, and his eyes drank them in no matter how socially unacceptable it was to do so when Kurt didn't seem aware of his presence. He leaned against the doorframe, hoping he looked like his regular badass self and not some creepy stalker.

"What's a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?"

He finally looked up from his phone, face running through confusion, recognition, a flash of something that could have been hopefulness (or was that Puck's own bleeding through?), and finally settling on mocking with a hint of amusement. "That has to be the oldest line in the book."

"Hey, I gotta start somewhere. Why not with the classics?" And holy shit, was he _flirting_ with Kurt Hummel? And Kurt was flirting right back? There was another moment of (hopeful?) confusion and Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but a blonde bullet shot past Puck into the room and attacked the seated boy.

"Kurt! You came back!"

"Hi Brittany."

Santana followed, far more calm than her other half. "Well, well, look who's here." She looked up at Puck still standing in the doorway. "You gonna move or not?"

Puck sent her a friendly glare and stepped into the room, setting his bag down and taking the seat two down from Kurt. Brittany was still chattering away about who knows what, then suddenly bounced away as Artie rolled into the room. She climbed onto her boyfriend's lap, stockinged legs crossed as he wheeled over to his spot at the base of the risers. Kurt watched the scene with a fond smile on his face, then leaned over to whisper to Puck. "Why are those two dressed in Rachel Berry chic?"

Puck snorted. "I have no clue. For all I know, it could have something to do with Sam, Mike, and Artie singing Bieber earlier this week."

Kurt stared, wide-eyed. "What exactly have I missed? Mercedes just gave me a full update a week ago."

"This is us we're talking about. Things change between first bell and lunch." Kurt nodded understandingly. "Anyway, we worked the whole anthem angle this week, you know for Regionals. I helped Lauren out with a pretty good number, and Coach Sylvester helped us find one." Kurt's eyes bugged out at that. "And that happened too," Puck gestured to where Santana was wrapping herself around Sam a few feet into the room, "like today. Pretty sure Finn's gonna take another shot at Quinn now."

"Oh my God," Kurt rolled his eyes. "Really? I guess I should try to talk some sense into him. This will not end well for anyone."

"You're telling me," Puck muttered as the rest of the club filed in, most greeting Kurt enthusiastically. Mercedes and Tina practically smothered him and Finn clapped him on the back. Rachel was excited at first, but quickly switched her tone.

"Kurt, as much as I love you being here, I'm not sure how wise it is for you to sit in on our practice when you're technically the competition."

An unsurprising number of glares turned onto Rachel, but Kurt seemed unfazed. "If you do in fact begin work on competition pieces, I'll gladly leave the room. However, I don't see any more problems with watching a regular rehearsal than I do with karaoke with the group of us. It's not like I'm going to learn some secret to take to the Warblers that I don't already know."

"Wait, you're not here to stay?" Brittany interrupted.

He sighed. "No, Brittany. I got out of classes early today and thought I'd come to visit. Plus, Finn's truck died yesterday and I figured I'd give him a lift home since Carole dropped him off this morning."

"Thanks, bro," Finn called back from the front row.

"No problem."

It's then that Mr. Schue comes in, acknowledging Kurt with a nod and a smile before starting afternoon rehearsal, letting Quinn take center stage. Puck quietly slid over a seat and leaned a bit closer to Kurt. "Hey," he whispered, being careful not to disrupt Quinn while she sang about something about rising from the ground. "I was gonna go play mini-golf tonight. You wanna come with?"

Kurt nodded distractedly, half paying attention to the performance. "It's been a while since I've been golfing. Dad and I used to go almost every week when I was younger. Want me to bring Finn too?"

Puck restrained from rolling his eyes, choosing instead to look like he was watching the front. "If you really feel like you need to, but I was hoping it could be just us. That way we could talk, get to know each other a little better, you know?"

A sharp intake of breath came from his left, then a low hiss of "Puck, are you— are you asking me on a—?"

"It is what it is," Puck answered. "I know you guys do that family dinner thing, so I'll pick you up around eight?" He faced Kurt and got a nod, then turned back as Quinn wrapped up her number. This might be out of left field for Kurt, but it made perfect sense to Puck. He may not know much about dating, but a date was probably a good way to start that, right? Even a hook-up sometimes started with a date. The date itself would be the easy part. It was after the date that had some potential for disaster.

* * *

Puck pulled up to the curb outside the Hudmel house at five til eight exactly. Instead of laying on the horn and waiting for Kurt to come out like he would if he was hanging out with Finn, he killed the engine and made his way up to the front door. He knocked and waited putting on his most charming smile in case Mr. H opened the door.

The porch light popped on and Mrs. H was there. Puck dropped the charming smile, knowing she'd seen through it since he tried to get a few extra cookies at a peewee football game in fourth grade. Instead, he smiled genuinely, albeit nervously, happy to see her. "Hey, Mrs. H, how're you?"

"I'm doing just fine," she said, smiling in return. "Why don't you come on in? Finn didn't mention anything, but you're welcome here anytime, no matter what slips his mind."

Puck stepped in and shut the door behind him, but didn't go further than the entry hall. "I'm not actually staying. I'm here to pick up—"

"Hey Puck," Kurt called rushing down the stairs. He darted around Carole, ignoring her bemused expression in favor of a coat from the closet. "I'll be back in a couple of hours," he assured her before he tugged the door open and ushered Puck outside.

"Bye, Mrs. H!" he called over his shoulder as Kurt shut the door, double-checking that he had his keys before heading down the walk. Puck followed, pausing when Kurt turned toward his Navigator in the driveway. "Dude, where are you going?"

Kurt turned. "My car?"

"No." Puck wrapped an arm around his shoulder and steered him out towards the street. "I asked, I drive. Common courtesy for any kind of hanging out." He reached the passenger side door, unlocked and opened it. "In you go."

He huffed, a light version of the Kurt Hummel Bitch Face gracing his features, but pulled himself up into the truck. "You do realize I'm not a girl, right?"

"Doesn't mean I can't be a gentleman," Puck replied, smirking as he shut the door. He walked around the hood and hopped into the driver's seat, gunned the engine, and pulled into the street.

There was silence in the cab, not awkward but not comfortable either. Kurt started cycling through the preset stations on the radio, obviously hoping for something they could agree on. "Do you have a CD in already?"

"Um, yeah but—" Puck started fumbling for the case of discs he kept in the center console, but Kurt had pushed play.

"The way you move ain't fair you know, hey soul sister…"

Kurt stared at the stereo in disbelief. "Is this the Warblers?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you get this? The Warblers have copies with different parts on different tracks for practicing in our spare time, but it's a bit higher quality than this."

"Even the show choir world has it's black market," Puck said cryptically. When Kurt was still confused, he said, "There's a network of guys, supposedly all over the country, that sneak recording equipment into every single invitational, sectional, regional, and multiple guys in nationals. They make bootlegs and sell them online for whoever wants them. Guy told me it was one of the worst-kept secrets in the system."

"What guy?"

"The guy I caught taping a recorder to his side in the bathroom before sectionals started."

"Of course," Kurt said, as if that's the only way he could have found out. He watched out the window as it segued into Sam's opening lines. "So is Rachel listening to it obsessively to find out where our weakness is?"

"Why do you think I haven't told her? I just think it's something cool to have, she'd take it and all the other sectionals albums ever and turn them into a freaking training program like the games Coach made us watch in football."

Kurt snorted. "It's not like any of you would actually listen to her if she did that."

"Course not," Puck said easily. "But then I'd start feeling all guilty and shit and I'm trying to avoid that." He took the turn into the mini-golf parking lot gently. "Besides, you know how we work."

"Last minute preparations and hope?"

"Nothing more, nothing less." Kurt laughed as they parked. The walk to the rental station was short, but that didn't stop Puck from trying a few times to grab Kurt's had as they went. It didn't happen, and then Kurt paid for his own club and ball, and later declined to split a milkshake with Puck (he thought he was being pretty obvious with that one). But the conversation was easy and they spent a lot of time just talking in between ribbing each other's horrible putting skills. Puck figured, watching the Hudmel's porch light extinguish after dropping Kurt off, that if this was what dating Kurt was like, he could get used to it.

* * *

When Rachel accused him of wanting a place to get drunk and have sex, Puck definitely had a specific person in mind. That's why he mentioned making it a glee party, because even if he went to another school, Kurt was still a part of glee. Puck extended that invitation personally during one of their increasingly regular phone calls, but Finn tried to shut it down. Luckily, the moment Puck mentioned blackmail to Kurt as a potential solution (between concrete shoes and bribery), the other man said he had it under control and hung up.

Puck knew the party would be slow to start, which is why he pregamed. Not much, just two beers at home since he had to drive, but enough to get his courage up until Kurt arrived. He was going to speak to him right at the beginning, tell him he wanted to be his boyfriend and all that shit. After that, the evening could go one of two ways: Kurt could accept and they could spend the night getting drunk and doing body shots and making out in corners, or Kurt could reject him and he could get spectacularly shit-faced drowning his sorrows.

He really hoped it was the first one.

But then Kurt walked down the stairs with Mr. Dapper himself, who he hadn't mentioned was coming in their phone calls. That's when Puck switched to Emergency Plan C: drink. A lot. He frantically convinced Rachel to let him break into the liquor cabinet, needing something stronger than the current buzz in his brain. He wasn't sure what all he said, but his lock pick was soon out of his pocket and he had a bottle of Jack in his hand. He cracked it open and took a swig before passing it back to Mike and emptying the shelves onto the bar.

The first shot had him feeling good, so he ran upstairs and dug up some sodas, thinking some people might want to take it slower. He was unsurprised that Finn grabbed one, seeing as he'd agreed to DD earlier. Turning away from the counter, Puck reclaimed the bottle from Mike long enough to fix a Jack and coke. He'd pace himself so he could keep a buzz all night.

Halfway through his first drink, he noticed that Kurt still didn't have a red cup of his own. Instead, he was drinking straight from a can of diet coke. Unless he had poured into the can, which was more trouble than it was worth at the time, he wasn't drinking either. Blaine was off chatting with Lauren, not sticking close to Kurt like Puck thought he would. Which meant…

Puck topped his cup off with soda. If he still had a chance with Kurt, he needed to be mostly sober to take it.

The night went on, most of it pretty entertaining. Santana and Brittany did the body shots Puck hoped he and Kurt would be doing. Quinn looked like she wanted to start an argument with Sam, but Mercedes pulled her over to play games. He joined Lauren in cheering on Rachel while she chugged a wine cooler. And Gargler was off drinking himself stupid and dancing in a corner.

Things took a turn for the interesting with the game of spin the bottle. Puck's head was quite comfortable on Mike's shoulder (even if he wasn't really drunk, it was a nice excuse to cuddle, which he kinda liked), but he perked up at the liplock between Berry and Curly. They might have been enjoying themselves, but a glance at Kurt made it clear that he was pissed.

Then Rachel was yelling about duets and the midgets were bouncing all over the stage. That's about all Puck could see since Lauren had decided that he should wear her glasses. He sang along, much like everyone else, but when it was over and they switched to something he could only identify as a show tune, his blurred vision caught sight of Kurt slinking out of the basement and up the stairs.

Puck returned the glasses and followed, making it up the stairs just in time for Kurt to thunk his head against the wall. "You okay, man?"

Kurt jumped, spinning to face the basement door. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little…" He waved a hand in the air, not bothering to come up with a word. Puck nodded and motioned him to follow him into the kitchen.

"You look like you need a drink." Kurt started to protest, but Puck grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and filled it from the sink. "Water always helps. Even if you haven't been drinking."

"Throwing up on Miss Pillsbury's shoes will tend to put anyone off indulging," Kurt commented, "especially when you're trying to impress someone." He took the glass and gave Puck a silent toast before downing it in one go.

"Wait, you're actually trying to impress that guy?" Puck asked, snatching the glass back to refill it. "Why?"

"I don't think you want to hear that. Might have too many feelings involved for you." Kurt's tone was teasing, but there was something there, like he genuinely didn't think Puck would care.

"Try me."

Reclaiming the water, Kurt took a sip. "I just want what everyone else in New Directions has already had at least once. Romance. I want to woo or be wooed. Even when you decided to date Mercedes, ill-advised though it may have been, you put some effort into it, and I know you two didn't just sit around playing Scrabble." Puck smiled fondly because while they may have made out a few times, the majority of their short relationship was spent on a cutthroat game of Monopoly. The relationship ended, but the game kept going; they were currently on their seventh round, meeting up for at least an hour every week to play, with the overall score at three to three. "All I have is a half-assed fling with Brittany where I was spending more time worrying if I looked straight enough than enjoying it, which I really wasn't. I adore Britt, I do, but she's not what I'm looking for. I want a fairytale and Blaine is the first real shot I have at that. He's nice and charming and handsome and a really sweet guy, if a bit of a dork. And for once in my life, I want a kiss that sweeps me off my feet and makes me—"

Puck crowded Kurt against the counter and pressed their lips together. Kurt froze for a moment, but then Puck heard a faint sound of the glass hitting the counter and felt hands coming up to slide around the back of his neck. Then Kurt's mouth was opening and his tongue was tangling with Puck's. Puck poured his best into it, hoping it was that kiss Kurt wanted, the kind that swept him off his feet and hopefully into Puck's arms. From his side, it felt good, almost too good to bear, so Puck dragged his mouth away and down the delicate jaw with the barest hint of stubble. He started sucking what he intended to be an impressive hickey into Kurt's neck, catching his breath and thinking of how to admit the truth. Kurt made a faint noise in his throat and pulled Puck back up to eye level.

"Kurt, I—"

"Kurt?" Finn's voice floated into the kitchen and the boys sprang apart. Kurt's hands flew to his hair, trying to fix it, despite Puck not even touching it. "You up here, man?"

"We're in here," Puck called. It didn't take long for Finn to get there, and Puck vaguely worried that he'd be able to tell what he'd interrupted. He was not expecting the first words out of Finn's mouth to be:

"Blaine fell asleep in the middle of singing Hollaback Girl with Quinn and Lauren, so I think it's time to take him home."

Kurt rolled his eyes and excused himself, heading down the stairs with a determined look on his face. Finn took in Puck's mostly put together demeanor. "How sober are you?"

"More than usual," Puck admitted. "Why don't you help Kurt with getting Frodo home and I'll wind everyone down here? By the time you two get back with both cars they'll actually agree to get in. Then I can get Rachel into bed." At Finn's glare, he backtracked. "I meant like tuck her in and drop some aspirin and a water on her desk. I'm not going down that road again." Whether he meant Rachel or drunk sex with a virgin, he wasn't sure. Probably both. "Besides, even as wasted as she is, she's still gone over you."

Finn smiled brightly and clapped his shoulder. "Oh, thanks, man. For, you know, the help, not the Rachel thing." _Liar_. "I'm gonna help Kurt carry him up the stairs. Even if he wakes up, Blaine is trashed."

"I'll be down in a sec." Finn left and Puck puttered around the kitchen, waiting for the sounds of two sober teens and a stumbler making their way to the front door. Apparently Preppy was still fascinated by the idea that Kurt and Finn were brothers. _Welcome to the party, asshat. I was at the freaking wedding._

At the sound of the front door closing, Puck took a deep breath and re-entered the lion's den. The first thing he saw was Brittany trying to unhook her bra while she was wearing it, a feat proving a little more difficult than usual with as much tequila as she had in her system. He came up behind her and grabbed her hands, pushing them to her sides instead. "Why don't you leave that one on, Brittany?"

"I'm a rock star!" she proclaimed with the confidence only the drunk can have, cuddling up to Puck. It was a familiar feeling, seeing as they often ended up cuddling with her half-naked when they partied together. It sometimes went past cuddling, but it sated both of their inebriated urges.

"Rock stars can wear clothes," Puck explained patiently. Brittany looked confused for a moment, then smiled, kissed Puck on the cheek, and went to find a shirt to put on. Sam and Santana were making out on one couch, while Mike and Tina had ended up horizontal on the floor. He'd break up those two first, then get everyone else a little under control. Sam and Santana he'd leave for last and send them in separate cars. Probably put the Latina with Finn. He broke up what could have been an awesome moment between Puck and Kurt and she was a right bitch when cockblocked. Whatever rant she gave him would have to suffice as punishment.

* * *

"You can't be serious."

"When we kissed, it— it felt good."

Kurt was hearing things, there was no other explanation. "It felt good because you were drunk."

"What's the harm in going out on one crummy little date?" Blaine asked, calmly pouring sugar into his coffee, like this wasn't a big deal.

"You're gay, Blaine."

"I— thought I was, but— I've never even had a boyfriend before. Isn't this the time that you're supposed to— figure stuff out?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this right now."

"Maybe I'm bi, I don't know."

Kurt bit back the response that wanted to come out, about how bi was a term that some gay guys used to be with girls and feel normal. The moment he thought it, he saw Puck in his head. With the way they had been getting a little closer recently, it had been happening more often, and if any guy were actually bisexual, it would be Puck. At least, if you took into account his track record and that kiss in Rachel's kitchen.

He still wasn't sure what that kiss was all about, but Puck wasn't extremely drunk, so there was a good chance it wasn't just a fluke. But there was the chance…

"Well, if you and Rachel work out, I guess you'll have to send Puck a thank you gift of some sort."

Blaine stopped stirring and stared at Kurt. "Why?"

"He's the reason you two are together. After all, if he hadn't broken into her dads' liquor cabinet, neither of you would have gotten drunk and Rachel wouldn't have had the brilliant idea of spin the bottle."

"Huh." Blaine refitted the lid back on his coffee cup. "Never thought I'd owe a relationship to a guy like him."

That gave Kurt pause. "A guy like what?"

"You know, the rough-around-the-edges, small-town guy. That quintessential cradle-to-grave in one place kind of man. It's just not really the kind of guy I normally even hang around with is all. I mean," he took a quick sip, "you've seen the guys at Dalton. Everyone's got a plan and goals. But a guy like Puck doesn't do that. He's not really going anywhere with his life. It's just interesting."

Kurt sometimes had taunts circling around in his head, cataloged as he heard them thrown his way. One stood out during Blaine's little speech. "Blaine, do you know where my dad was born and raised?"

"Uh," he was clearly racking his brains for the fact, "no?"

"He has lived in Lima his whole life. And another thing? He didn't have a clue what to do with his life until he took a business class at OSU Lima and thought about the tire shop. In fact, when he was in high school, he was a lot like Puck." Blaine stared, slack-jawed, at the notion. "I've always wanted to get out, but I know some people could do so much good if they stayed. Some of those people are my friends. So next time you decide you understand them and want to insult them, think about what they mean to me. And never call anyone I know a Lima loser ever again."

"I didn't—"

"But you did. Telling a McKinley student they aren't going anywhere the polite way of calling them a Lima loser. You know what?" Kurt gathered his bag and his coffee. "I'm proud of what my dad has done. I'm proud to be his son. And I know that someday, Puck will do something to make me even more proud than I already am to be his friend. So you can have your jet-set friends with their plans to fly away, and I'll keep my roots in home." With that he stood and exited the coffee shop.

* * *

Puck was crashed out on the couch downstairs with Finn, playing video games and hoping to catch a glimpse of Kurt. He'd been ignoring Puck's calls since Rachel's party and Puck had finally had enough. He was determined to get Kurt to sit down and talk to him so that maybe they could take a step forward instead of two steps back.

"Kurt, I'm sorry, I—"

"Blaine, please just leave," Kurt said, escorting Blanderson down the stairs and out the door. "I'll talk to you later." He slammed the door decisively and then joined the other two boys on the couch. He threw himself onto the last empty cushion and tilted his head all the way back, eyes shut.

Finn and Puck glanced at each other, unsure. "You okay, bro?" Finn asked.

"I'm fantastic," Kurt said. Finn's face scrunched up and he was about to say something when his phone beeped. He checked the text, grimaced, and stood.

"Quinn wants me to call her and talk about… something. She said it's important. So…"

Puck just stared as Finn scurried up the stairs to his room. "Thought you were going to talk him out of that."

"I tried." Kurt didn't bother opening his eyes. "He doesn't listen well to anyone, including himself. In a twenty minute conversation, he said Quinn's name five times and Rachel's five times a minute."

"Yeah, he's completely over Berry." Puck shook his head, marveling at his friend's stubbornness, then turned to Kurt. "Okay dude, seriously. What's up?"

He could see Kurt stiffen as his defensive walls went up. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, man. You just shoved Anderson out of here while he was apologizing his ass off about something. What happened?"

He sighed and opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. "We had a disagreement about sex appeal." Kurt took a deep breath. "And whether or not I had any."

Puck was struck dumb. "What? Is he fucking blind?"

"We had a performance where, according to him, my sexy faces looked like gas pains, so we were upstairs while he gave me a crash course in how to be alluring," Kurt admitted, blush faint on his cheeks. "I saw the faces in the mirror and obviously that is not a gift I was born with. Then he tried to talk to me about sex and I kicked him out."

Part of Puck was upset at the thought of Blaine trying to discuss sex with Kurt which could have led to just sex with Kurt, but he pushed that line of thinking away. Priority number one was getting Kurt's confidence back. "Hate to break it to you, but unless you're me or maybe Santana, trying to be sexy doesn't work. Even with us it's backfired once or twice. Fact is, most people's faces look really stupid when they're trying to look hot. It's believing you're hot that makes you hot. And dude," he clapped a hand on Kurt's knee and squeezed. He waited until Kurt met his eyes before continuing. "You're sexy just by being there. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

The other boy smiled warmly. "Thanks, Puck. Really."

"'S the truth." But he returned the smile. "So what did he say that made you kick him out?"

"It's more of a culmination of the past couple of weeks," Kurt said. "He said some things after Rachel's party that rubbed me the wrong way and never bothered to apologize even after I explained why. I didn't really feel like listening to his idea of how I should think about sex, so I asked him to leave."

Puck moved closer on the couch. "What was he saying?"

"He was focusing on the physical aspects of sex and seducing. I'm more attached to the emotional side. Furthering a relationship and connecting instead of just getting off. Not that there's anything wrong with that," he hastened to reassure Puck, "it's just not my opinion. I prefer the slow build of a good romance novel to some ridiculous adult film. Really, what are those writers thinking when they come up with the scenarios?"

"They're probably not," Puck said, laughing. Then he thought about the rest of what Kurt had said. "Is that why you ignored me after the party? Was it too much? I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm kinda not, except for if I pushed you too far or something, I'm sorry for that if that's what happened, but you seemed kinda into it during so—"

"Puck," Kurt interrupted. Puck shut up. "It wasn't too much. I… was wary that you might have had a bit too much to drink and it was affecting your judgment. I didn't…"

"What?"

"I didn't want you to take it back," Kurt whispered.

He stared a moment, not quite believing what Kurt was saying. Then Puck leaned forward, hand still resting on Kurt's knee, and kissed him. Just a simple press of lips, firm and sure without a hint of hesitation. He sat back and smiled softly.

"Not taking it back."

Kurt looked utterly shocked, but then he smiled softly. "You're a good friend, Puck. You've got a good heart." Puck snorted, which caused the other boy to smack his arm with no real force. "I'm serious. You may be a little rough around the edges, but someday you're gonna do great things." Kurt grinned, wide and bright. "And I can't wait for the day when I can point to you on TV or a magazine cover and say I knew you when." He waited until Puck had returned the smile, nodding, then picked up the TV remote and switched over to surf the cable channels.

Even after Kurt settled on some reality show with women screaming at each other about clothes, Puck couldn't quite stop the warm feeling in his chest at Kurt's words.

* * *

"Blaine kissed me."

Those were not the first words Puck expected to hear when he called Kurt to rib him about how badly they were going to whoop Warbler ass in a few days.

"He what?"

"He kissed me." Kurt sounded frazzled. "I don't really know. Pavarotti died and I was singing and then he's talking about how I moved him or something and he kissed me."

"Wait, who died?"

"Pavarotti, the bird I've been taking care of for my Warbler initiation or whatever it is."

"Dude, your canary died?"

"Not the important part of the story, Puck."

Puck knew that, but he was hoping he'd misheard or misunderstood or mis-something the rest of it. "So, he kissed you and? What'd you do?"

"He asked if I would consider going out with him."

Silence followed. "And? You said?"

"I said I'd think about it."

Puck felt warm, but not in a good way. More like his blood was on a low-level simmer. "What do you need to think about? The guy's a douchebag!"

"At least he's offering."

And now it was a full rolling boil. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "It means you can't just kiss me a few times and not really talk about it and expect me to dump my best shot at a normal high school romance to run into your arms."

"I'm not asking you to," Puck retorted, because no matter what he wanted, he wasn't going to actually ask.

If he didn't ask, he couldn't be shot down.

"Then what are you saying?" Kurt's voice broke into his thoughts.

It didn't take long for his sidetracked brain to come up with a legitimate reason for Kurt to not date the douchebag. "He's a douchebag!"

"He may have had his bad moments," Kurt admitted, "but he's still the same sweet guy I met on the staircase of the school _you_ sent me to spy on." Puck cringed at the reminder. "I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can make my own mistakes." He sighed. "Now unless you have something else to say..."

"No, I'm good," he huffed.

"Goodbye, Puck." The click sounded final to Puck's ears.

"Bye." He dropped the phone onto his bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Fuck, I never should've sent him to gay Hogwarts."

* * *

After the sound beating they gave the Warblers via original songs, after that borderline sickeningly sweet duet that Kurt sang with his new lover boy, it was complete radio silence. It was like the days following the kiss in Rachel's kitchen, but worse somehow.

And then the two of them showed up at the Night of Neglect.

They walked in holding hands, gesturing and laughing. Puck looked up from the card table that was serving as the box office, beginning to grin until he remembered that he and Kurt weren't talking to each other. Prince Way-Too-Charming paid for two tickets and smiled genially before the two of them walked into the auditorium. He sneered at their backs, hating that they were flaunting their date right in front of him.

The event went from bad to worse between Sunshine bailing on the performance and the Hecklers. Puck never thought seeing Blaine kiss Kurt would be the highlight of his night. Well, Mr. Ryerson writing them that check was pretty fucking awesome. But that kiss meant that Blaine was leaving for the night and Kurt was coming back to the Hudmel house for the after party.

They all piled into the living room, taking over every flat surface for either seating or food. Mrs. H flitted around making sure everyone was comfortable and reminding the boys to keep their feet off the furniture. It was a constant refrain because even though Mike learned fast and Artie didn't exactly have that problem, the other footballers couldn't rid themselves of the habit. Santana was saying something about the razors in her hair (not a myth, Puck had cut his hand on one of those little bitches once) when Kurt slipped upstairs, Puck's eyes following. A few seconds later, he made his excuses and went after him, praying no one put the two together.

Kurt was in his room, unpacking a small suitcase on the bed. Apparently he hadn't had time to drive from Dalton, settle in, and get to McKinley on time. Either that or he'd spent his spare time making out with Eyebrows instead. The first was way more likely since he wouldn't have left his clothes folded and possibly wrinkled for that long if he could help it. Puck watched for a few more seconds, trying to figure out what the hell he was gonna say, but Kurt caught sight of him.

"What do you want, Puck?"

"You." And oh shit, he did not mean to say that. He really didn't. He was going to be all suave and use his natural Puckasaurus wooing talents to come up with exactly what Kurt wanted to hear. But Kurt was standing there with wide eyes and Puck figured that he'd already jumped in with both feet, so why not swim deeper?

"Look, that fairytale you wanted? I can't give you that. I don't even want to give you that. Because fairytales aren't real." He took a deep breath. "But I can give you me. And I'm real. And I'm here, hoping that I still have a shot at you, because I want you. Not just for sex, although I'm kinda hoping for that eventually, but in my life, like late night phone calls and that kind of shit. I wanna make Finn act all awkward when he catches us making out on the couch and I want pictures of you and my sister having tea parties and hell, I'm even looking forward to your dad threatening me with his weapon of choice, which should really be nunchuks or something as badass as he is, cause damn." He shook his head, mentally bitching at himself for getting off track. "The point is, I like you and things are just better with you around and I've fucking missed you since you went off to gay Hogwarts and even more since you hooked up with Helmet Head and stopped talking to me and I'm sorry it took all that for me to get my head together but this is it. I still won't ask, but I'm offering." Puck met Kurt's eyes, still staring in shock. "I, uh, think I'm done rambling now, so if you wanna say something, that'd be awesome."

Kurt didn't say a word, just tugged Puck into the room and shut the door behind him. He gently pushed Puck so his back hit the door, then cupped his face in his hands. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back.

"I accept your offer."

Puck grinned, which made Kurt smile. He pressed their mouths together again, slightly awkward because their lips were stretched too thin from the smiles that wouldn't stop. "Thank you," Puck whispered. "Just… thank you. I'm warning you now, I have no idea what I'm doing here, but I'm gonna try."

Kurt laughed softly. "Right now, we're kissing. Think you can handle that?"

The grin morphed into a smirk. "Yeah, I think I've got a grip on that part." Puck dove back in, mouth slightly parted as he coaxed Kurt's lips apart. They stayed like that for a while, a gentle pressure back and forth, sharing the same breath, before Puck slipped his tongue out, tracing the edge of Kurt's lower lip. Kurt responded in kind and soon their tongues were sliding along each other. Puck settled his hands on Kurt's hips and slowly turned them, placing Kurt's back against the door and pressing their bodies together. The smaller boy let out a whimper and ran his hands from Puck's cheeks to the back of his neck. Puck tried to move even closer, touching every inch of Kurt's frame with his. He could feel Kurt's interest growing and his own was making itself known as well, so he decided to do the gentlemanly thing before they both did something they might regret.

"Listen, you have to tell me if it's too much, okay? I know you want the romance and I swear you'll get that, but—"

Kurt pressed a finger to Puck's lips. "How about we see where this takes us? If either of us wants to stop, we'll stop, okay?"

"Okay," Puck breathed, nodding. He pressed another short kiss to Kurt's lips and then pulled away. The pout Kurt sported was adorable, but he resisted it as he took Kurt's hand and led him slowly to the bed. He gave him a moment to realize what was happening, then sat on the bed. He patted the surface next to him and Kurt joined him. Almost immediately, Kurt returned to the task of kissing Puck with even more enthusiasm than before. Puck placed a hand on Kurt's thigh, gentle but firm, just a reminder that he wasn't about to run screaming because he was kissing a boy. Kurt responded in kind, settling a hand on Puck's waist that travelled up and up until Puck got the hint and removed his shirt altogether. Turnabout being fair play or whatever, he just looked at Kurt until the smaller boy removed his own shirt.

Puck didn't want to risk screwing up Kurt's clothes. That had a high chance of ending whatever was going to happen.

It didn't take long for them to lay down, side by side, with Puck's mouth attached to Kurt's neck and Kurt's fingers in Puck's hair. Kurt tugged at the short hairs at the base of Puck's neck, saying something about "No marks yet." Puck nearly whined at the idea that he wouldn't get to claim Kurt as his own, but when the yet registered, he shivered. That meant this would happen again.

He pulled away from the pale throat and nudged Kurt slightly so he was on his back, then slid over to lay on top of him. "Okay?" he whispered, then waited for Kurt's nod to settle fully, the press of some of his body weight bringing their groins in contact with each other. He could feel Kurt hard against his hip and damn if that wasn't one of the hottest things he'd ever felt.

Without thinking, he rolled his hips downward. Kurt moaned quietly, a high sound that Puck wanted to hear again. He gave another little roll, the kind of thing he did in glee for choreography, and received a higher whine, accompanied by a gentle thrust up. And yeah, Kurt was definitely aware of Puck's erection because he was blushing a little, although that could have been embarrassment at his own actions. Instead of letting him over-think about it, Puck just did.

Their mouths crushed together again and Puck swallowed the sounds Kurt made as they moved. Despite his vast experience, this, rubbing together with no promise of anything more, was one of the hottest things he'd ever experienced. Maybe Brittany had been right last time they talked; it was better with feelings. But then Kurt bucked up particularly hard and Puck forgot all about Britt or anything other than the boy beneath him.

It didn't last long, Kurt not having the stamina and both of them being so worked up. The rhythm Puck tried to establish failed and a sharp bite to Kurt's lower lip had him freezing, a small noise escaping from between their mouths. The knowledge that he had done that, had just made Kurt come, had Puck moving faster until he felt a wave of pleasure crash over him.

Puck collapsed, both of them breathing heavily. "Wow," Kurt gasped.

"Kurt Hummel is speechless. I feel pretty accomplished right now."

A hand came up and smacked Puck on the back of the head. "Shut up." Puck chuckled and slid to the side, pulling Kurt to lay half on top of him. Kurt pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Puck's mouth and snuggled his head onto the firm chest. His fingers traced delicate patterns on Puck's bare abs and Puck had to swallow down the emotions he felt trying to clamber out at the intimacy of the moment. The roughness, the fucking, the getting off, that he could do. That he was used to. But afterwards he expected people asking him to leave, before the Cheerio's dad or the cougar's husband came home. Even Santana, although that was more about him getting food to bring back to her than actually leaving. This, though. Clinging together as their breathing steadied and their heartbeats slowed. It wasn't anything he knew, but he couldn't wait for it to happen again.

"What're you thinking about?" Kurt whispered.

"This. Us," Puck admitted. "You." He kissed the top of Kurt's head. "You know, that was pretty hot. Just in case you were wondering about your sexiness again."

"I wasn't, but thanks." He shifted slightly. "We should probably clean up."

"Yeah." Neither one moved. "Why don't you go first and I'll shower while you do that whole lotion thing? We'll finish around the same time and then we can get some sleep."

"Mmkay," Kurt mumbled. He pulled himself away from Puck with one more kiss and grabbed a set of pajamas from his dresser. He glanced Puck at the figure on his bed and tossed him a pair of sweatpants from the bottom drawer. "Here's something to wear. They might be a little small, but unless you want to explain this to Finn…"

"Dude, Kurt Hummel is letting me wear his clothes." Puck gave a shit-eating grin. "Not many people can say that, so I'm gonna take my kicks where I can get them." Kurt rolled his eyes and snapped his pajama pants at him as he passed. Puck dodged the assault and snuggled down into the sheets, waiting for Kurt to wake him for his turn in the bathroom.

* * *

Puck woke up the next morning with Kurt's body next to his and the red numbers on the dresser proclaiming it to be half past seven. Any other morning, he would have rolled over and shut his eyes again, but he didn't think he'd be able to go back to sleep with knowing Kurt was right there. Exhaustion had claimed him last night, but being mostly rested took care of that. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Kurt's shoulder and slipped out of bed, down the stairs to where the coffeepot would be waiting for him to either brew a batch or pour a few cups if someone else had beat him to it.

He hadn't anticipated Mr. H being in the kitchen in t-shirt and boxers, but then Mr. H didn't seem to realize Puck had stayed the night either. They held a short, stilted conversation as Puck poured two mugs of caffeine. He nodded at the request to just let Mr. H know when Puck was in the house and scurried back up to Kurt's room.

Kurt was sitting up and appeared to be searching the room for something when Puck walked back in the door. He smiled slightly when he saw the other boy, even more when he caught sight of the two mugs. "That better not be decaf."

"Nah." Puck handed one over, watching in amusement as Kurt inhaled the scent deeply, then proceeded to take a large gulp. "Your dad said it was the good stuff."

Kurt choked slightly. "My dad was down there?"

"Yeah, he wasn't real happy that I caught him in his undies again. Said he had no idea I'd been here all night."

"What did you tell him?"

"I came up here last night to talk and hang out with you and we ended up falling asleep." Puck shrugged. "It's pretty close to the truth."

Kurt laughed, breathless and slightly hysterical. "The truth minus orgasms. Which I won't be telling him about anytime soon. The shock probably isn't the best thing for his heart."

"I thought he was trying to get healthier. Didn't you tell me that he ordered a stack of workout videos?"

"My father decided he wants to be a ripped black man with a butt like J-Lo. But wanting and doing are two completely different things."

Puck snorted. "He hasn't even taken them out of the packaging, has he?"

"The box is making a lovely doorstop."

He smiled and kissed Kurt lightly. He took the coffee mug and set them both on the nightstand behind him, then turned back to thread a hand through Kurt's hair. They kissed for a few minutes, soft and open-mouthed, before Kurt dipped his head down.

"You really don't have to do this. I know my morning breath—"

"Don't care," Puck murmured. He tried to chuck Kurt's chin up and get back to making out, but the smaller boy kept his face down. "Something wrong?"

"Last night was fun."

"Yeah, it was."

"And I just thought… I thought you might…"

Puck sighed. "I'm not going anywhere. Everything I said last night was true, not just some spiel to get into your pants. I may not know what I'm doing, but I know what I want. And this was not a one night thing, okay?"

"I didn't disbelieve you," Kurt admitted. "I just don't know if you'd considered everything. You're not out. That by itself would put a strain on the relationship. If you do come out, you'll be facing all the ignoramuses that could make your life hell. I wouldn't wish that on anybody. And it's not like you can afford to go to Dalton. Not like that," he backtracked, seeing the hurt look on Puck's face. "I'm just stating a fact. I've seen the family budget. Even with two-incomes and me cutting back on spending, we're stretched thin." He took a deep breath. "I've even considered telling Dad to put me back in McKinley. I don't know how much longer we can afford Dalton."

"You should," Puck said. "I'm not the only one that misses you. We all do. And if you walk in on my arm, nobody's gonna mess with you, not even Karofsky."

"He came after us last night," Kurt whispered. "Santana came up and scared him off. She said she would crack his nuts and pull razors out of her hair. He ran off after that."

"Never thought I'd say this, but smart guy. Those things hurt." Kurt looked him in bewilderment. "You don't know dangerous until you've messed with a Lima Heights Latina. I've met Mama Lopez and she can be scary as fuck. She likes to sharpen the kitchen knives when I visit. Dude, stop laughing at me!" The snickers finally burst forth from Kurt's mouth. "Seriously, I'd like to watch you take on the woman that can make Santana do what she says without bitching."

"I'm sorry, you're right," Kurt said through giggles. "It's terrifying."

"Woah, first I make Kurt Hummel speechless and now he says I'm right? What is this world coming to?" He ducked a swat. "Seriously though. If you want to come back, I'll make sure no one fucks with you." He grabbed Kurt's hand. "You've got me, babe. I'm not going anywhere til you want to get rid of me."

Kurt squeezed their joined hands. "Thanks, Puck." He leaned forward then and pressed a gentle kiss to Puck's lips. When he tried to break it apart, Puck surged forward and pinned Kurt to the bed, nuzzling at his neck. Kurt giggled, but then quieted, his breathing quickening as Puck began once again to work on the hickey he'd wanted to plant back in Rachel's kitchen. Kurt's hands had just thread into the base of his mohawk when the door swung open.

"Kurt, have you seen my— THE HELL?!"

Puck's head snapped up to see Finn standing in the doorway. "Sup man?"

Finn stared, eyes darting between the two boys on the bed and landing once or twice on the coffee cups. "You— But— And the—"

Resisting the urge to laugh, Puck turned back to Kurt. "Sorry, I think I broke your step-brother."

This time he didn't move away from the arm swat fast enough.

* * *

Somehow, Santana wrangled a sufficient apology out of Karofsky for Kurt to return to McKinley. She claimed it was about love, but Puck found it far more likely that she made him choose between his pride and his dick.

So Puck drove over to Dalton with Kurt to help him unload his boarding room. That was the main event, anyway. There was one more thing that had to be done before Kurt could leave.

He hadn't told Blaine about Puck.

Puck could kind of understand it. Kurt didn't want to break Blaine's heart, but it needed to be done. He'd decided to wait until he was moving out to do it so then Blaine didn't have to see him again if he didn't want to.

They met up in the refectory, cups of coffee on the table between them and Blaine's hand covering Kurt's. Puck waited off to the side, where he could see the two but not be involved in the conversation. He could still hear snatches of it though.

"Blaine, it's for the best," Kurt said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

Blaine shook his head. "How? Just because you'll be going to a different school instead doesn't mean we have to end this. We're not even competitors anymore."

"Not this year, but there's always next year."

"So we'll deal with it next year," Blaine snapped. He immediately looked chagrined. "Sorry, I'm sorry, it's just… we just found each other. We have something beautiful. Why do you think we need to end that now?"

Puck watched as Kurt flipped his hand over and weaved his fingers in with Blaine's. He tried not to let it get to him because he knew this was hard for Kurt too. He may not have ever liked the Harry Potter wannabe, but Kurt did, so Puck tried to have sympathy or empathy or whatever it was that meant he got it and wasn't going to give Kurt shit over it.

"Blaine, I cannot ever thank you enough for everything you've done for me. Honestly, you've been amazing. But I don't really see us working out." Blaine looked near tears, so Kurt tried a different tack. "When you first asked me out, I said I'd think about it. That should have be a sign right there." He smiled sadly. "You deserve better than someone who has to think about it."

He pulled his hand back, wiping slightly at his eyes. "Is there… is there someone else?" he asked, eyes darting to where Puck was sitting at a side table.

"He's a friend," Kurt answered and Puck felt his heart clench, but he understood. Kurt didn't want to hurt Blaine even more, and it's not like he said Puck was just a friend. They were friends, but there was more than that. It was just a matter of how much Blaine knew at the moment.

"I still want to be your friend," Kurt admitted. "I understand if you need time, but—"

"Yeah, I do," Blaine said. "But thanks." He stood and gave Kurt a small smile. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but thought better of it and turned away. Kurt slumped back in his seat.

"You can stop spying," he called over his shoulder. Puck left his single table behind and sat next to Kurt, his own coffee joining the two untouched drinks on the tabletop.

"You okay?"

Kurt snorted. "What do you think?" He leaned his head to rest on Puck's shoulder while Puck took the hint and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend. "I just broke a friend's heart. He may never want anything to do with me again."

"I doubt that. Give him time and he'll be happy again. He'll find someone that makes him feel as awesome as you make me feel."

Kurt smiled. "You make me feel pretty awesome too." He turned his face to press a small kiss to Puck's shoulder. Standing, he offered his hand to Puck. Puck took it and twined their fingers together. "Come on, let's finish loading all my stuff so Dad doesn't start worrying about us getting lost."

* * *

It wasn't that they decided to keep their relationship a secret; they just didn't bother telling people outright. Puck laughed his ass off the whole time the club speculated on Kurt's affair with Sam because they all seemed to think it was based on Kurt being lonely. Puck just listened to him bitch for a few days about the stupidity of their friends, then took matters into his own hands to help keep Sam's secret. A solo version of _Can You Feel the Love T__onight_, complete with staring longingly at his boyfriend, may not have been the best serenading choice for revealing a relationship, but Kurt loved it and the looks on everyone else's faces were hilarious.

Prom was a series of ups and downs. Finn took a swing at Jesse St. Douche for getting handsy with Rachel, which they thought would make him realize that he was a little too invested in her, but Finn remained as oblivious to himself as ever. Kurt was elected queen and Karofsky abandoned him, so Puck stepped in, slow dancing with his boyfriend and giving him the most passionate kiss they could get away with on a public dance floor. They'd probably catch some flack for it later, but at least it was clear how things were going to be.

The funeral was a bit surreal, seeing as Puck had never even met Coach Sylvester's sister, but he held Kurt's hand and reached over occasionally to pass him a tissue. They went back to the Hudmel house and Puck distracted him by making him pack for the quickly approaching Nationals.

The plane ride was weird. Kurt wasn't used to air travel but he took it all in stride. Puck, on the other hand, was a wreck. He refused to show it outright, but he did not like the plane. Rather than tease him for the way he was gripping the armrests, Kurt made small talk, interspersed with little kisses.

"Honestly, I'm just excited to get out of Lima," Kurt said. "It'll be nice to be… well, anywhere other than Lima, but especially such a cosmopolitan city as New York."

"We won't have to hide," Puck muttered. He had shut the window shade early in the flight, despite the fact that his was the aisle seat. Kurt didn't seem to mind, preferring to focus on the boy next to him as opposed to the view out the window.

"We won't." Kurt grinned at the implications that had. "No hiding. No neanderthals. No nasty looks on the street. No comments about how wrong we are. Well, not as many."

"It'll be hard to leave."

"Yeah," Kurt admitted. "We can always go back though."

"We can." Puck grinned faintly. It disappeared quickly with a rattle of the plane and the announcement of turbulence.

"So," Kurt said quickly, obviously trying to distract him again, "I'm going to need you to teach me how to pick a lock."

Shue tried to separate everyone by sexuality, but when Puck reminded him that he and Brittany both were bi (Santana gave him a bitchy look at that one) and would need their own room by those standards, the teacher gave in and allowed the split as boys and girls provided "nothing inappropriate" happened. Puck deadpanned that he couldn't wait to fuck his boyfriend in a room full of guys, which caused Kurt to turn bright red and several of the guys to choke on their own spit.

The moment they were on the streets of New York City, Puck was planning a date. Not an expensive one, because it wasn't like he and Kurt had enough money between them to get a decent meal. But he wanted to do the little things. He treated Kurt to dinner at a hot dog cart, which Kurt turned up his nose at until he got a whiff of the cooking sausages. By the time Puck had made his case about it being authentic cuisine, Kurt was picking out his toppings. They wandered around, pausing to watch street artists work. Kurt dropped a few dollars in a violinist's case and paid a caricature man to sketch the two of them together. Kurt looked like a garden gnome and the mohawk was twice the height of Puck's body, but it made them both smile.

It struck Puck as they walked through the park hand in hand just how perfect it was. Kurt's smile was easy, none of the tight lines he was so used to visible. They were happy, truly happy with how things were going. It wasn't something Puck was familiar with. Looking over his shoulder, waiting for the next blow, that was common. He felt wrong letting his guard down. But then Kurt would laugh, actually laugh instead of giggle politely, at something and it was all worth it. Puck liberated some flowers from a section of the park on their way back to the hotel. Kurt blushed, his eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something.

The kiss Puck received instead, in full view of everyone passing and no one sneering, was the best thing he'd gotten all day.

The last-minute songwriting session was tense, and Finn was not helping with his Rachel issues. But he and Kurt both had listened to his bitching for too long to let it go without a fight, so Finn went to win her over while the rest of them worked. The failure would have been a disappointment, but somehow Finn came up with a song, so Puck was cool with letting him wallow a little.

Frantic blocking and memorization followed, every spare moment dedicated to work. People were avoiding talking to each other about anything other than the set, saving their breath for dance moves and voices for singing. It was chaos until the last moment, with stretches backstage before they went on.

Puck snuck up behind Kurt and wrapped his arms around him. "Hey," he said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Break a leg."

"I love you."

Not quite the reaction Puck was expecting.

"I know it might be a little soon, but I just wanted you to know and Finn told me this story about him and Rachel that got stuck in my head and—"

Puck silenced him with a quick kiss. "Not too soon. So not too soon. Perfect timing."

"Really?"

"Really. Been trying not to say it for a while now so I wouldn't scare you off."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "How long is a while?"

"You want honesty or something less creepy?"

"Depends on how creepy the honesty is."

"Valentine's Day."

The other eyebrow went up. "Really?"

"Yeah." Puck shrugged. "Wasn't sure at that point if you'd want a fuck up like me, but that's when I decided it was worth a try."

"You're not a fuck up," Kurt reminded him, swatting gently at his arm. "You're just a little different. But that's okay." He smiled. "I'm a little different too. And we fit."

"Hell yeah we do." Puck gave him another kiss, then realized there was something missing from their conversation. "By the way, I love you." Kurt rolled his eyes, but kissed him one last time. He returned it eagerly, but a flickering of the backstage lights signaled a need to get to places. "Speaking of fuck ups, let's go assist in Finn's diabolical plan to win Rachel back yet again."

Kurt sighed. "I hope they get it together soon. I can't take much more waiting."

"Yeah, well, not everyone can be as awesome as we are."


End file.
